


Blasphemous Act

by Mertiya



Series: Heroes' Reward [3]
Category: Magic: The Gathering
Genre: F/M, Innistrad, Kidnapping, Nightmares, thunderstorm sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-08
Updated: 2014-08-08
Packaged: 2018-02-12 08:41:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2102877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mertiya/pseuds/Mertiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ajani and Elspeth pay a visit to some of Ajani’s old friends on Innistrad, but some of the villagers are not pleased with their relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blasphemous Act

Wind rattled the windows and creaked in the old shutters of the inn, and lightning flashed every few moments. The young woman who sat in the central hallway to greet travelers as they entered was reading a book. Not really expecting anyone to be abroad in such terrible weather, she was surprised when, after a particularly heavy crack of thunder, there was a loud knock on the door.

Anna got to her feet timidly. Despite the return of Avacyn, dark forces still prowled Innistrad’s night, and they would certainly prefer this kind of foul weather.  She retrieved a crossbow from its place on the wall and called out, “Come in!”

Two people entered.  The first was a woman in somewhat more elaborate armor than Anna was used to seeing, complete with a large sword belted at her side. She looked formidable but not fearsome as she pulled back the hood of her flowing, white cloak.

Her companion had to duck to get through the door.  He also wore a cloak—green and travel-worn—and the large, turned-back feet suggested that he was a wolfir, though Anna had never seen a wolfir with white fur.  So—a woman and a wolfir, but neither of them carried the sign of Avacyn, which was enough to make Anna nervous again. She hovered hesitantly with the crossbow, but managed to say, “Can I be of help?”

The woman glanced at her companion, who spoke.  “Have you any rooms? We’ve traveled here from a far distance—I’m seeking a friend.”

“A friend?” quavered Anna, still not sure if her father would be pleased if she were to rent rooms to these potentially-dangerous strangers.

The massive head nodded. “Erich Redholt and his wife Salida were once very kind to me, and I wished to pay my respects to them.”

“Oh!” It made much more sense now. “Oh, yes, of course.” Anna put down the crossbow and moved into businesslike mode.  “Two rooms, then?”

A glance ran like an electric current between the two strangers.  “Yes, thank you,” said the woman finally.

“All right,” Anna said, though the pause had left her with more than a few questions.  “It will be ten silver coins per night.  You’re welcome to sup with my family, if you desire. We don’t have many visitors at this time of year.”

“Thank you,” said the wolfir gravely.

“Could you write your names in this book?” Anna asked, turning the guestbook around and holding out a pen. First the woman, then the wolfir received and wrote in it, and she gave them each a key. “Thank you,” she said as they headed down the passageway behind her.  “I’m sure Erich will be happy to see you!”

She looked down at the names the two newcomers had written.  The first name, in precise, large handwriting, was _Elspeth Tirel_.  An unusual spelling.  She looked further down the page, to the name the wolfir had written with his large hand. _Goldmane_.  She paused, staring at it.  What a strange name.  And his hands had been strange, too—the long, blunt nails of most wolfir had been entirely absent from the large, scarred fingers.

~

Elspeth stripped off her wet, heavy armor quickly, wrinkling her nose at the musty smell rising from the clothing beneath it.  She wondered if there would be a place to purchase a more suitable outfit.  It had not seemed like a very large town, but she did not relish the thought of being stared at by everyone she passed, though perhaps, accompanying Ajani, she was in less danger of that.

 A low knock on her door announced his presence.  After she let him in, he pulled off the cloak he had been wearing and hung it by the door, shaking his head irritably. “So much water,” he rumbled in disgust.  “I knew there was a reason I disliked this plane.”

Elspeth couldn’t keep from smiling at the sight of him.  “It was your desire to come here,” she pointed out.

“And I regret it already,” Ajani said, but his tone of voice was faintly self-deprecating.

Elspeth took his hand and leaned against him, still marveling at how warm his fur was.  He nuzzled the top of her head fondly.  “Perhaps we should not seek out your friend until the weather has become a little welcoming,” she said.

“Did you have something in mind to pass the time?”

Elspeth looked up at him, feeling foolish and giddy at the same time.  “Perhaps,” she said.

“Ah,” said Ajani.  His tail began to creep up her leg.

~

Elspeth woke peacefully the following morning.  Through the curtains, which they had forgotten to close, she could see that the rain had stopped, though the sky was still grey and overcast.  She was deliciously warm, her back pressed against the soft fur of Ajani’s belly.  She drowsed for a few minutes, and then felt him stir behind her, his mouth moving through her hair and his large hands pushing and kneading at her back.

It struck her that she had not been this warm, this content, this safe—perhaps ever.  The niggling fear that this situation was undeserved, she banished to worry about at another time.  The cold terror that it would end abruptly was harder to handle, but she breathed into it and let it wash over her before glancing back at Ajani.

He was still asleep, but stirred when she wriggled around to lie face to face with him.  Blinking awake, he gave a sleepy rumble. His tail curled round her ankle, and he continued to knead gently at her.  Elspeth couldn’t hold back a soft laugh, and this time he yawned, looked down, and became about as bashful as she had ever seen him. “My, ah, apologies,” he said.

Elspeth snorted.  “For what?”

“It is not seen as—it is not appropriate behavior for an adult,” Ajani said stiffly.  He tried to lash his tail, but got it caught beneath the sheets.

“I did not mind,” Elspeth said mildly, snuggling back against him.  “I rather liked it.  Still—” she glanced out the window.  “It looks as if we’ve slept late.  Perhaps we should get up?”

Ajani sighed, a long grumbling sigh that turned into a yawn halfway through. “Yes, you’re probably right,” he said. “I have not slept so well in many nights, though.”

“Nor have I,” Elspeth replied quietly. She sought his hand beneath the covers and held it for a long moment before rising and looking for the clothing she had hastily discarded the night before.

As they left the room together, she glanced to the side and saw the young woman from the night before standing in the passage.  She had evidently been dusting, but she paused and watched them as they made their way toward the exit.  So much for discretion, Elspeth thought with a sigh.

Ajani led them down a several cobblestone streets, wet with rain from the night before.  Elspeth looked around curiously, particularly as they passed a small, white building, with a high spire and door emblazoned with a symbol like a winged _u_. “What’s that?” she asked Ajani softly.

“The church of Avacyn,” he replied, after a glance in the direction she indicated.  “They are a powerful force for good on this plane.”

Eventually, they ended at a medium-sized house, rather taller and more enclosed than the buildings on Theros or Bant. Elspeth swallowed a shiver at the thought of a small, enclosed space, and stood beside Ajani as he knocked on the door.  It was answered by a small, wiry old man, who peered up at them from behind spectacles perched precariously on his nose.

“Erich!” Ajani exclaimed, his tail lashing upward in excitement.

“Why—the Goldmane!” cried the old man. “Come in, come in—where have you been for so long?”

“Traveling,” Ajani replied, ushering Elspeth in ahead of him.  “It has become easier of late, it seems.”

“Since the restoration of our beloved lady Avacyn, yes indeed,” agreed Erich.  He led them into a warm kitchen, where a fire in the hearth burned brightly, and Elspeth felt herself relaxing in spite of her earlier fears. “Salida!” called Erich. “You’ll never guess who decided to come visit!”

A plump old woman whom Elspeth liked on sight emerged from another room beyond the kitchen.  Ajani took the hood of his cloak down, and Salida gave a gasp and cried, “Goldmane!” before rushing over and planting a kiss on each side of his muzzle.  “Come in, come in!” she said, just like her husband.  “And who is your lovely companion?”

“I am so sorry, I should have asked as well,” put in Erich.

Elspeth smiled, though she felt off-balance and awkward without her sword and armor.  “My name is Elspeth Tirel,” she said.

“She is my closest friend,” rumbled Ajani, laying a hand on her shoulder.

“Oh—you are the one he spoke of?” put in Salida.  “Oh, my dear.”

Elspeth glanced quickly at Ajani. He had spoken about her? His face was as frustratingly unreadable as ever, but his tail was lashing slightly—in agitation, perhaps?

“Am I?” she said.  “I did not know that he had spoken about me.”

“Oh—I’m sorry,” Salida said. “Of course not, I’m sure he hasn’t said much about us.  He only said that you were in some kind of great trouble, but he seemed to be worried for you.”

Elspeth glanced over at Ajani again. “I had just returned your armor to you,” he rumbled. 

Salida looked back and forth from Ajani to Elspeth.  “Let me get you something to eat,” she said, in a motherly manner, but she gave her husband a significant look of some kind as she bustled over to the cupboards and began to assemble a plate of food.

“Hrum.”  Erich cleared his throat and nervously checked the window. “Goldmane, I hope you won’t think I’m too forward if I ask what exactly your relationship is with Elspeth?”

Ajani’s tail spiked and did not settle. Elspeth thought if he was trying to be subtle, he was doing a poor job of it, as his hand sought hers protectively, but she let him.  Neither of them spoke, but the gesture seemed to have told Erich all he needed to know.

“You should be careful,” he said, suddenly serious and strangely oblique.  “It would probably be as well not to broadcast your—affinity for one another.”

Elspeth thought uneasily back to the look the girl had given them when they exited the room that morning, but banished it.  If all else failed, they could simply planeswalk away.

Salida returned with a plate of warm, fruit-filled pastries, and the serious mood of the conversation lightened again. They spoke of inconsequentials for some time.  Elspeth mainly stayed silent, but basked in the warmth and the unadulterated kindness of these people.  After a time, they asked Ajani for a story like the ones he used to tell, of other, stranger worlds.  He must have told them some stories about planeswalking and disguised them as old tales—Ajani was certainly fond of storytelling.

Elspeth enjoyed listening to his tales, which usually blended fact and myth to create a particular resonance, and she settled back in anticipation.  She was not expecting the story that resulted and found herself listening in slight embarrassment to Ajani’s embellished description of the events on Theros, though he had at least succeeded in making the two of them reasonably unrecognizable.

Erich and Salida listened with rapt faces, and Elspeth spent as much time paying attention to their reactions as she did to the actual tale, but eventually, the tale wound to its end, which was an almost surreal experience.  She and Ajani hadn’t spoken much of what had transpired after her, well, death, though he had awakened her from nightmares of the Underworld on several occasions recently.  She winced slightly as he finished with the mourning of the character he had standing in for himself, and his hand slid onto her back.

The afternoon wore on pleasantly—it must have been quite late when they woke up, Elspeth realized—but eventually Ajani excused them.  “Would you come to dinner tomorrow?” Salida asked them on their way out.  “We don’t have time to put anything together for tonight, but we’d love to have you.”

“We would be happy to come,” Ajani responded, and Elspeth nodded as well. 

Her heart felt very light as they left the house, light enough for her to reach out mischievously and tug gently at Ajani’s tail.  He gave a small noise of surprise, and then his tail curled around her wrist, drawing her underneath the cloak with him so that he could lick her lightly on the top of the head.  They walked back to the inn hand in hand.

Once there, Elspeth recalled that the girl who had welcomed them to the inn had invited them to dinner with the family, and they went in search of her.  She seemed somewhat surprised that they were taking her up on the offer, but she was quite pleasant.  Dinner was a little stilted—everyone seemed to be staring at Ajani—and Elspeth was forced to recall one of the branches of conversation from earlier in the day, that most people would probably assume he was a kind of wolf-human hybrid called a wolfir, which had recently replaced the werewolves on this plane. “Better not to show yourself off,” Erich had cautioned.  “Folk in these parts are still a little leery of the wolfir, and you’re something stranger yet.”

“I appreciate the warning,” Ajani had replied.  “I remember not having a warm welcome the first time I traveled through these parts.”

As they entered her room, she turned to him again.  “If this plane is so hostile to you, why did you want to return?” she asked him.

Ajani paused reflectively as he hung his cloak on the hook by the door.  “It is a very petty sort of hostility,” he said eventually.  “And I wished to introduce you to Erich and Salida.”

Lightning flashed outside the window, almost immediately followed by thunder, drowning out any elaboration he might have followed up with.  Elspeth flinched in surprise and felt Ajani, beside her, jump as well.  When the sparkling cleared from her eyes, she found herself in his arms and wasn’t quite sure how she’d gotten there, or which of them had closed the gap.  Along his spine, Ajani’s fur was standing on end, and his teeth had closed possessively in her hair.

Elspeth leaned against him, managing to control her shudder as the lightning flashed again. 

“I feel like a cub.  Foolish,” Ajani rumbled, and Elspeth smiled bleakly, but decided to say nothing about her own childhood.

“I don’t like it much either,” she pointed out, but the thunder drowned out the second half of her statement, and she sighed in exasperation, blowing her breath out onto Ajani’s chest. A tremor ran through him, the timbre of his breathing changed slightly, and his tail curled about her leg.

“Perhaps we might dispense with words for the time being,” he said, in the momentary stillness that followed the next bolt.

“Yes,” Elspeth said quickly, before the thunder could sound again, but did not have time to say anything else.

The thunder drowned out the sound, but she felt the rumble-hum in Ajani’s chest, and, surprised at herself, she shoved him back in the direction of the bed.  He caught the front of her shirt as he fell and dragged her back with him, and they landed on the bed in a tangle of arms and legs.  She accidentally elbowed him in the mouth and gasped in surprised pain as one sharp tooth grazed her arm.

“Sorry,” Ajani said, in the still of the lightning, but the thunder rolled again before she could reply. She slid her hands down his front instead and felt rather than heard his groan as her hands closed around him.

There was, even now, so much to explore. She concentrated on the rough circle of little spines, sliding her fingers across them.  Like most of Ajani, they looked fearsome but did not feel it; in the silence of the next lightning-flash, she heard him whine, hoarse and rough, in pleasure.  His hands groped for her hips, and his tail slid down her trousers and between her legs.

Elspeth rubbed herself against it—not too hard, as she had discovered to her chagrin a few nights ago—and reached for one of his hands with one of hers.  A few flashes of lightning passed as the two of them just breathed and moved together, hands fiercely entwined.  The sound of the thunder seemed dimmed, somehow.

After a few more lazy moments of foreplay, Elspeth kicked off her trousers and positioned herself over him, feeling his tail lash in anticipation against her back.  Lightning flashed as he thrust up into her, and her moan was drowned in the accompanying thunder.

They fell into a strange rhythm, up as the lightning struck, down as the thunder rumbled.  The lightning had become so rapid that Elspeth’s eyes were adjusting to the pattern of momentary brightness followed by even more momentary darkness, and she watched with interest the still pictures that were presented for her.  Ajani’s head flung back, her hands anchored on his shoulders—rolled to the side, his mouth open in a roar that could only be heard as the continuation of the thunder, but that she felt as a wave that traveled through her and tugged strangely at her heart, her hand tightening in his.  Looking down, the scars on Ajani’s chest heaving, naked white lines where the fur was pushed back and parted.  To the side, their hands clenched tight, her knuckles white with strain, the tips of Ajani’s dark claws protruding from the ends of his massive fingers.

Elspeth’s breath caught, stuttering in her lungs at the sight of Ajani’s head turned once again toward her, his blue eye open and catching her reflection in the glare of the lightning; she cried out, a wordless gasp that reshaped itself on her lips to form his name. Ajani’s free hand slipped around her thigh and one crooked finger landed squarely between her legs, just above the spot where they were joined.  Sparks flashed in front of her vision, and she began to move faster, feeling Ajani’s moans couple with her own, though she couldn’t hear them.

The thunder was overlapping itself by this time, a tumultuous, neverending roar.  Elspeth felt herself teetering on the edge of orgasm, and she had a sudden, wild desire not to fall alone.  She reached for Ajani, not just with her hand, but with the magic she had been keeping firmly tamped down.  Sudden warmth surged and quested from her chest and her hand, and for a brief, lopsided, horrible moment, she thought she was still alone— _just me, just as I’ve always been alone_ —and then she felt him answer.

Light flashed.  There was no sound of thunder, only a sudden stillness. Ajani held her as her limbs spasmed helplessly, but she held him, too, and felt his bliss become hers. They tumbled together through a moment strangely devoid of time or sense, a dark void turned inside-out, a universe filled with only the two of them.

As the radiance faded, Elspeth slumped on top of him, boneless, exhausted, and warm.  The rumbling of the thunder was fading as well. She slid sideways off him until she was curled beside him, her head tucked in the hollow of his shoulder.

“By the Anima, Elspeth,” Ajani said in a hushed voice, and she squirmed against him slightly in response. “I saw you.”

She yawned.  “Lightning,” she mumbled.

“No.”

He was trembling.  Concerned, she rolled over to look at him in the dim light.  He was tapping the ruin of his left eye.

There were, perhaps, a number of responses she could have made, but she chose, without thought, a question. “What did you see?”

He huffed and rumbled with laughter. “What I always see,” he said fondly.

~

Elspeth woke with a choked cry and groped for Ajani, needing his warmth to chase away the cold dark of the Underworld that had surfaced in her mind during her sleep.  The bed was cold and empty.  She sat up in confusion and looked around. The room was bright with the light of dawn and very clearly empty.  A cursory investigation revealed that her trousers were still tangled up in the sheets.  Looking over Ajani’s side of the bed, though, she felt a chill run down her spine. Five parallel gashes had been carved into the sheet, and beneath it, the mattress.

Fury and fear boiled up inside Elspeth at the sight.  She knew it had not happened while they were making love during the thunderstorm, and it was passed unlikely for him to have done so during the night.  The faint hope that he might have made the marks while having a nightmare and merely gone out to fetch someone and tell them died when she saw his travel-worn green cloak, still hanging on the hook by the door, and then the other gashes.  Five on each side, they bit deep into the wood of the door.

How had she not awoken? Why hadn’t Ajani struggled more? There was dark magic at work here. She grabbed her sword and sheathe from beside the door and strode out of the room, not even bothering to belt it on. The first person she saw was the girl—Anna—who had welcomed them to this inn in the first place.

“Where is my companion?” she demanded, her hand tightening on the hilt of her sword.

Anna flinched.  “Please—come see me father, he’ll be happy to explain,” she said in a rush, and Elspeth forced herself to relax the hold on her blade. She was terrifying someone who was in all likelihood innocent.

“Take me to him, then,” she said, grimly. Anna gave a terrified little nod.

Her father, whom Elspeth had met at dinner the night before, was not alone.  There was a small huddle of men and women standing in the doorway of the inn, talking to one another in low voices.  Silence fell in the room as she entered, and she allowed herself the luxury of laying her hand on her blade once again.  “Where is my companion?” she demanded again.

Their body-language was strange. They glanced at one another, and then Anna’s father—Paul, was that his name?—moved forward, palms out, speaking in a tone that Elspeth felt would have been better reserved for a skittish animal.

“Madame Tirel,” he said soothingly. “We would be happy to take you to your companion, if you wouldn’t mind accompanying us.”

“Why have you taken him? Where is he?”

Again that glance around the ring, some unspoken agreement.  “Your companion was taken—ill, suddenly.”

That was a lie.  Elspeth, feeling a depth of fury she had not experienced since she saw the Phyrexian brand upon Koth, had to use all of her self-control to keep the sword in its sheath.  “You will take me to him,” she said steadily.

“Of course, of course,” Paul said, in that same, strange, coaxing voice.  “Just come with us.”

Deeply suspicious, Elspeth followed them, buckling her sword about her waist as she did so.  They took her down the same route that she and Ajani had taken yesterday, turning in at the gate of the church when they reached it.  Elspeth halted for a moment, trying to consider the odds.  If she let them take her into a small, enclosed space, she might find it more difficult to escape, and planeswalking without Ajani was not an option. And if she objected—Elspeth ground her teeth.  She needed more information.

She walked between them into the church, feeling uncomfortably like a prisoner escorted by her jailers. Glancing around the interior, she saw a narrow, high-roofed room with an altar at one end and a number of wooden benches set out in rows in front of it; light filtered in through an immense stained-glass rendering of a black-clad angel with bright wings.

Cold sweat broke out on Elspeth’s neck at the enclosed, dimly-lit space, but she forced the fear down. _I walked through Erebos’s realm, and I still stand._

A woman and a boy stood in front of the altar, both in robes with the sigil of the church emblazoned on the front. Elspeth felt the change in the air as she entered; the woman raised her arms and began to chant, drawing white energy up to her hands.  Elspeth took half a step backward, but had no time to react before the spell washed across her.

She wasn’t certain what she had expected—an attempt to snare her will, bring her to her knees?—but she had not expected—nothing. She felt the magic spill across her, but whatever it was intended to do, it did not do it.

“Did it work?” asked the boy beside the woman, who was looking faintly puzzled and vaguely horrified.

She raised her arms, repeating the gesture, and once again, it had no effect.  “How can this be?” demanded the woman.

“Where is my companion?” snapped Elspeth again.

“Priest Riza?” Paul said uncertainly. “Have you cleansed her?”

“ _Cleansed_ me?” echoed Elspeth.

“There is no spell upon her,” the priest said.

“But the spell of the beast--!” Paul said. “My own daughter saw them enter that room together and what they were doing in there, I shudder to think!”

“Evil can come in many guises,” the priest said.  “Perhaps you have harbored a witch beneath your roof without knowing it.”

Elspeth barely processed the fact that the group of people around her were beginning to look horrified and significantly more hostile, because she was too busy with the anger that had flared up again.

“How dare you,” she said, her voice coming out soft and strange.

“Restrain her!” cried Paul. “She’s dangerous!”

White fire blazed up inside Elspeth and spilled out from her hands, her eyes, her back, almost agonizing in its intensity. “How dare you!” she thundered again.  Her sword was fiery-hot in her hand.  “That ‘beast’ is a better man than you will ever be!  He once tried to fight off death itself to defend a friend!”

Her voice echoed out, filling the small church, and she felt strangely light.  It took a moment to realize she was no longer standing on the ground, but was buoyed up by a kind of spell she had never felt, though it seemed oddly similar to the way she had felt the night before, filled and overflowing with light, different from her normal, more controlled approach to her magic.

The church was no longer dimly-lit, but illuminated with blinding radiance from corner to corner. Gazing down at the crowd below, Elspeth realized that at least half of them had fallen to their knees, though the others appeared to be reaching for weapons.

“Stop, you fools, what are you doing?” cried one woman.

“She could still be a witch,” another replied tightly.  “The crusader told us to be wary.”

“She’s an angel,” responded the first woman.  To her surprise, Elspeth saw that tears were rolling down her cheeks.  “Avacyn bless.”

“Stop!” Priest Riza spoke, raising her hands.  “Everyone.” She dipped her head cautiously toward Elspeth.  “My lady,” she said. “You must understand that, while your appearance—and the magic that you use—suggest we should trust you, we are in a precarious situation.  There is a neighboring settlement of wolfir who have, without justification, been preying upon our people.  Your traveling companion, though he is no wolfir, is of a similar race—and we were warned against him by Crusader Zylpha herself.  If we promise you that no harm will come to him or to you until we have managed to sort through this tangle, will you be satisfied with that?”

Not by far.  Elspeth wanted to scream and rage and demand answers about this Crusader Zylpha, but she reined herself in and slowly let up her hold on the white magic, floating gently toward the ground.  “Very well,” she said tightly.  “My companion and I have nothing to fear, for we have done nothing wrong.”

The priest let out a long breath. “Thank you, my lady,” she said.

“May I at least see him?” Elspeth asked icily.  “I do not know if I can trust that you have left him unharmed.”

There was a glance between the group, and finally, the priest answered.  “We—do not think that would be wise,” she said. Elspeth could not quite contain the spark of magic that flared out of the end of her sword, but she bowed her head. 

“Very well,” she said. “But know that if you have harmed him, there will be retribution.”

She was still trembling with anger as she pushed her way between the crowd and out of the church. The men and women glanced at each other, but none of them made any motion to stop her.  Only the woman who had been crying reached out toward her, and it was only to touch the hem of her cloak.  Elspeth paused and held out a hand to help her up, which the woman took after a brief pause.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Elspeth merely nodded and continued out.

Once outside, she started toward the only people on this plane whom she had faith would try to help—the Redholts.

This time, it was Salida who answered the door to Elspeth’s knock.  “What’s wrong?” she asked, as soon as she saw her.

“They’ve taken Ajani—Goldmane,” Elspeth said, controlling her voice as best she could.

“Who has?  My dear, you’d better come in.”  She led Elspeth back into the warm, comfortable kitchen from the previous day, where Erich was warming his feet at the fire. He looked up as they came in.

“She says they’ve taken the Goldmane,” Salida said.

Erich swore.  “Is it those damn-fool souls at the church?” he asked.

Elspeth nodded.  “The priest tried to insinuate that I might be a witch, but I believe I—proved her wrong.”

Erich’s eyebrows went up. “Impressive.  I’ve not seen Riza set back much recently. What did you do?”

“Released my magic,” Elspeth said succinctly.

“You’d better tell us about it,” said Salida.  “You seem like a competent young woman, but you’re not familiar with the folk around here. We may be able to finesse this, though—” she glanced at Erich.  “—I don’t know how likely people are to listen, these days.”

Elspeth nodded tightly. “I was hoping you might be able to ascertain if he’s unharmed,” she said quietly.  “They will not let me see him, until they declare this matter ‘settled’.”

There was another knock at the door. “I’ll get it,” Salida said. “You bide here, Elspeth, and we’ll see what we can do for you.”

She returned a moment later, followed by the boy who had been standing behind the priest at the church, still in his robes.  He stopped in shock as he saw Elspeth.  “My lady!” he exclaimed.  “I didn’t expect to find you here!”

Salida stepped in before Elspeth had to try and figure out how to reply to that statement.  “Why shouldn't she be here, my lad?”

He blushed sheepishly. “I, I didn't mean it like that.” Looking at Salida and Erich, he continued.  “I came to find you because I thought she—you—um, My Lady—might need help.”

Elspeth softened slightly at his stammering. He couldn't be more than twelve, after all.  “How do you think you can help me?” she asked.  “Because I will admit, I could use an ally.”

He shifted from foot to foot. “Well, I don't know exactly, but I thought you might want to know about my sister.”

“Your sister?”

“Greta.  Priest Riza and the others say she was kidnapped by the wolfir, but I'm not so sure.”

He had her interest now. “Go on.”

“I suppose it's only a feeling, but—the day Greta disappeared she was being all giggly and secretive. As if she had some big secret—she wasn't very good at keeping secrets.  And the next morning, when we found she was gone, her nicest clothes were gone as well.  I don't think kidnappers would have bothered to stop for those, but Greta would have taken them if she’d just decided to leave.”

“Why would she do that?” Elspeth asked.

“I don't know.”

She frowned speculatively, then turned to Erich and Salida again.  “What do you know about these wolfir?”

The couple exchanged glances. “Many of them were originally men and women of this town, who were afflicted with the werewolf curse and then partially cured by the Cursemute,” said Erich.  “I have always tried to help those so afflicted, and it has not always earned me friends, but I thought that after the Cursemute, we might start to become one people again.  It even seemed as if it was working for a while, but then—they became hostile.  It was said they had kidnapped Greta, and even if that is not true, it is certainly true that they will not allow us within their borders.”

“How far away are these borders?”

“Just an hour or two's walk. Not far.”

Elspeth came to a decision. She could not simply sit around and wait for a judgment of doom to be passed down on Ajani's head, and she could not trust that it would not be, because there was too much at play here that she didn't understand.  It wasn't likely they would miss her for the span of an afternoon. “I'm going to the wolfir,” she said firmly.  “Perhaps they hold a key that will help unlock this deadly conundrum.”

~

Ajani slumped against the floor of the basement room where they had left him.  No matter how hard he struggled, the shimmering white bonds were unbreakable. Even though he had eventually become desperate enough to try, he wasn’t able to planeswalk either.  The chains held him just as helpless and immobile against movement through the Blind Eternities as they did on the more mundane ground.

He was not badly injured, though his pride was wounded, and there was a gash near the base of his neck that he could not reach to inspect or clean.  His head ached, and his memories from the night before were hazy. He knew he had woken to find himself already mostly bound, and there had been a struggle, but he had not been fully conscious, nor at full strength.  He had one clear image of Elspeth, lying very white and still in the bed as he was forced out of the room, and he clenched his fists until his hands bled, trying to recall if he had seen her chest rise and fall, but he could not.

The creak of the door brought him instantly alert, and his tail lashed several times as he craned his neck to see who was entering.  So far, the men and women who had entered had been unwilling to speak with him, no matter how he addressed them, and he didn’t hold back the rumbling growl that rose up from his throat.  The person who had entered gave a soft, nervous gasp, and Ajani mentally groaned. Whoever it was sounded like a child, and he didn’t think he needed to further his reputation as a monster if he could avoid it.

The footsteps paused for a second, then continued, to Ajani’s relief.  A boy wearing robes emblazoned with the sign of Avacyn walked into his field of vision and approached him rather hesitantly.

“Good morning,” he said eventually. “You—can talk, can’t you?”

Ajani forced himself to stay still, though he couldn’t control the frustrated lashing of his tail.  “Yes,” he said.  “I can talk.  Think, even.”

The boy breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh, good,” he said. “Are you a wolfir?”

“Do I look like a dog to you?”

The boy flinched slightly at Ajani’s biting tone.  “Do you think you could be a little less—frightening?” he asked.  “I, I’m trying to get myself to let you out, and you’re very…” he seemed to be looking for a word.

“Very…” Ajani prompted, deliberately gentling his voice.

“Um, big.”

He had to laugh at that. “Yes, I am somewhat large.”

The boy managed a smile. “You are.  Will you promise not to attack me if I try to let you go?”

Ajani inclined his head to the extent he could, hope surging through him.  “I will.”

“Very well then.”  The boy walked around him slowly, and the fur prickled on the back of Ajani’s neck as he moved out of view, but he kept a tight rein on his instincts and suppressed the growl threatening to well up again. He felt a hand reach out toward the bonds on his neck, and then the boy gasped in pain and jumped back. He came back around to the front, sucking on his fingers.  “By Avacyn, these are strong,” he said.  “This is not just Priest Riva’s work.  I’m sorry.”

Ajani shut his eyes against the disappointment, but the memory of Elspeth’s still form leaped to his vision, bringing tears to his eye and tearing another snarl out of his throat.  His visitor yelped and leaped back, and Ajani cursed himself for alienating the only person who had seemed willing to help.

There was a long pause, then the boy spoke again.  “Are you afraid for her?” he asked.

Ajani opened his eyes. “My companion? Is she uninjured?”

The boy nodded slowly, and Ajani slumped against the bonds in relief. 

“She’s beautiful,” the boy said quietly. “And very angry.”

“Yes, I imagine she would be,” Ajani rumbled, slightly amused.

“Is she an angel?” the boy asked curiously, sitting down cross-legged on the floor in front of Ajani, who wondered what the correct answer was.

He settled on, “Why would you ask that?”

“Well, she looked like one earlier. Some of the villagers were saying she was a witch, and somebody—um, said something she didn’t like, and she—she grew wings and floated up into the air on a cloud of light. I can’t describe it well.”

“You don’t have to,” Ajani responded. “I have seen her soul. I can imagine.”

“I can see people’s souls a bit,” the boy said.  “But I couldn’t see hers.  Is that what it looks like all the time?”

There was something this child wanted to know, but he was still too frightened to ask it.  He was approaching it sideways.  Well, Ajani had no way to escape, and an ally was a worthy resource to cultivate, even if he hadn’t liked the boy already. “Not always,” he said slowly. “It does unless she has stopped it from shining.”  He looked down sadly.  “The only thing that I have seen capable of dousing her fire is her own hand.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Because she does not believe she’s worthy.”

“But why not?  She’s an _angel_.” He seemed to have accepted now that Elspeth was an angel.

“A riddle I wish I could solve as well,” Ajani sighed.

“Um, is it true that you fought off death for her?”

Ajani’s tail lashed hard, and his claws slid from their sheaths.  “I tried. I did not succeed.”

“But, she’s not—a ghost. Or a zombie.”

Ajani tried to think of a way to explain and finally settled on, “In the end, she fought it off herself. Everyone believed she had died.”

“Oh.”  The boy was quiet for a few minutes.  Then, he took a deep breath and blurted, “Do you love her?”

“Yes,” Ajani responded instantly.

“And, um, she loves you?”

“I believe she does, yes.”

“Can I—can I ask you something? It might be—rude.”

“Go ahead.  Little shocks me.”

“They are saying that you went to bed with her.  Is that true?”

Ajani grimaced.  He was beginning to get an inkling as to what had precipitated this whole mess.  He sighed roughly.  “Yes.”

“How?” The boy flushed. “I mean, you’re a—and she’s a—”

Ajani gave him what he hoped would translate as a wry look.  “Do you know the way of a man with a woman?”

The boy shuffled.  “Um, yes.  Mostly.”

“It’s much the same, even if the man has a lion’s head.”

“So…” the boy’s voice was shaking. They were getting close to thing he wanted to ask about, Ajani could tell.  “So, it doesn’t hurt her?  You don’t hurt her?”

Ajani chuffed a laugh. “I would never hurt Elspeth, even if I were able to do so.  She’s hardly helpless.”

“S-so, do you think—I know you said you weren’t a wolfir, but you must be a bit like—do you think that a wolfir who went to bed with a woman wouldn’t hurt her either?”

  1.   Someone the child was close to—interesting.  “Am I to assume this wolfir cares for the woman as I care for Elspeth?”



“I—I think so.”

“Then I cannot imagine the woman would be harmed.”

The boy sighed with relief and sat back. “Thank Avacyn.”

~

By the time Elspeth reached the cluster of hardy-looking tents, she had been walking for over an hour and was starting to worry that she had missed the settlement.  It was very different from the quiet, sleepy village she had recently departed from.  There were wolf-headed men and women all around, talking and laughing as they carried out their daily chores.  Several of them looked up as she tore herself out of the heavy undergrowth and entered what appeared to be the main street.

Silence spread out in a wave around her. After a few steps, a large wolfir stepped into her path.  “You’re not welcome here, human,” he said, in a low, threatening growl.

“Then it seems I am not welcome anywhere,” Elspeth responded levelly.  “I had hoped that after my companion and I were so poorly welcomed in the human town that the wolfir might be more inviting, but it seems I was over-optimistic.”

 He seemed at least somewhat set back by her statement; perhaps also by her lack of fear.  “What are you talking about?” he asked, finally.

Elspeth ground her teeth together. “My companion has been taken from me by the people of the village,” she said.  “Apparently, because they are convinced that he is somehow tied to you, and because they believe you have kidnapped one of them.”

He took a step toward her, looming above her; her only response was to put her hand warningly on the hilt of her sword. “They dare to say we have taken one of _their_ whelps?” he snarled.

“Yes,” Elspeth replied coolly. “Am I to take it that you have not?”

“They have taken one of our children!”

A peculiar symmetry.  Elspeth was beginning to suspect there had been no kidnapping on either side—if you didn’t count Ajani, of course—but she was still uncertain as to the best course for rectifying the matter.

“Well, since I currently have no love for them either, perhaps we may be able to help each other,” she said diplomatically.

“Perhaps,” the other responded guardedly. “You understand, we still won’t trust you, human.”

“The feeling is entirely mutual,” Elspeth responded, with a touch of anger.  Her reaction seemed to calm the wolfir slightly, because he nodded.

“Very well, then,” he said. Amid curious stares from the other wolfir, Elspeth allowed herself to be lead into one of the tents. It was surprisingly large and spacious, with a rush-pallet and, surprisingly, an old writing-desk.

“I am Gaufrid Stoneclaw,” said the wolfir, turning to Elspeth and gesturing for her to have a seat on the floor of the tent.

“Elspeth Tirel,” she responded, complying. After a moment, he sat as well.

“Now,” he said.  “Tell me why a human comes to our village with a tale of her companion being taken from her by those cursed villagers. Is your companion not human?”

Elspeth shook her head. “He is similar to you, but lion, rather than wolf.  We are travelers from a long distance away.”

Gaufrid looked at her pensively. “I begin to believe you,” he said. “You seem sincere, and I can well believe that one like us would not meet a kind welcome in that village. Tell me your tale.”

Elspeth described their arrival and the subsequent events as simply as she could, though she left out any description of the true nature of her relationship with Ajani.  Gaufrid listened seriously, though he still appeared unsettled in her presence.  She was coming to the description of her interaction with the villagers in the church, when there was a sudden sound of hoofbeats outside and some shouting.

Gaufrid glanced toward the entrance to the tent.  “I must see what that’s about,” he growled, his tail spiking upward.  Elspeth followed him to the flap and peered out behind him, then felt her heart thump with rage and fear at the sight.

A group of five riders on horseback had ridden into the main street of the tents.  Each one held a gleaming white chain in his hand, and the chains led to the arms and throat of a tall, hunched-over white figure. Ajani was breathing heavily, and there was brown, dried blood crusted along his shoulder and neck.

“Treacherous wolves!” shouted the lead rider.  “Know that we have taken one of your spies!  You have until tomorrow at dawn to return our Greta, or his life will be forfeit!”

The white fire came to her call even faster than it had a few hours before, as Elspeth exploded out of the tent in a furious burst of heat and white light.  All eyes turned toward her, and she saw Ajani’s head turn toward her, giving her a little nod.  “Is this how the people of your village treat a promise?” she demanded. “Deceit following on deceit? You promised that no harm would come to him and now you threaten his life!”

The first rider’s horse reared up beneath him, shying away from her.  The rider looked up, then unstrapped a bow from his back and leveled it at her. “Begone, witch. The crusader has returned and confirmed our suspicions of your true intentions.  We will not be tricked again.”

The bow he was pointing at her did not worry her, but the two riders who were pointing their bows at Ajani’s throat did. They could not easily kill him and hope to keep their advantage, but they could certainly injure him, and in the worst case—they might expect to escape if they killed him, which would definitely not happen, but also wouldn’t make much difference at that point.

“You will regret your treachery,” Elspeth snarled.  Before retreating, she saw Ajani’s face turned towards hers; his tail speared upward in a slight reassuring twirl.  So far, he was still all right, at least, though it was cold comfort.

~

Elspeth landed by herself in the forest and sat down on a fallen tree, trying to decide what to do.  The villagers claimed the wolfir had kidnapped a girl named Greta, while the wolfir claimed the villagers had taken one of theirs, and the boy she had met in the village had suggested that Greta had left of her own free will.  So, if Elspeth could somehow find the girl, before the following dawn—surely that would be enough.  They wanted her back in exchange for Ajani?  Then Elspeth would bring her back.  And if—that wasn’t enough—she shoved the thought away.  It would be enough.

She was not very practiced at finding magic, but she had learned a little from spending time with Venser. In order to perform it, though, without knowing the person she was looking for, she would need some kind of link. There was no way she could possibly convince the villagers to lend her a possession of the girl’s; it would only convince them more strongly of their crusader’s false claims that she was a witch. That meant the only thing she could do would be to ask the wolfir for a link to their missing person and hope that she was correct in her surmise that wherever the two of them were to be found, they were together.

She waited, hovering at the edge of the glade, until the riders and Ajani had retreated, her heart thumping into her throat every time one of the wolfir made a threatening gesture, but eventually she watched them ride away.  Her heart clenched and unclenched painfully as she saw Ajani forced to lope between them.  He was favoring one leg over the other, and she hoped desperately it wasn’t too painful.

Once they were gone, Elspeth made her way back into the wolfir settlement, where she found several knots of wolfir clustered around each other, talking very fast.  Gaufrid was standing grimly outside the remains of his tent, which had been reduced to ash when Elspeth made her explosive entrance.

“You have my deepest apologies,” she said, as she approached.  “If I can offer some form of recompense…”

Gaufrid gave her a deeply suspicious look. “I still am not sure of your purpose here, human,” he said.  “Though your outburst appeared genuine, it was startling in its ferocity.”

This was not a discussion she wanted to have right now.  “What are your thoughts on the villagers now?” she asked tightly.

He stared at her impassively. “We do not wish harm to come to your companion,” he said.  “But there is little we can do.  We do not have the human girl.  If the humans slay him before us, we will attack them, as they seem to be set upon attacking us, but vengeance is all we can offer.”

Elspeth flinched at the image that rose in front of her eyes at his grim statement, but continued. “Will you allow me a strange request?” she asked.  “I may be able to find your missing man and the human’s lost woman, if you will allow me to have a possession of his.”

The look on Gaufrid’s face grew more suspicious.  “They called you witch,” he said.

“And they say you have kidnapped a human girl,” she replied steadily.  “I swear to you, I am no witch, and it is in my interests to bring back both your missing people, safe and sound.”

The wolfir growled, but gave her a slight nod.  “Very well. I will allow this, if you will consent to take one of my people with you to guard you.”  The slight emphasis he placed on the word ‘guard’ suggested that the person’s purpose would be twofold, but Elspeth nodded.

“I accept your condition,” she said. “And I thank you for having a level head in such a difficult time.”

It took longer than she would have desired for Gaufrid to return with another wolfir, whom he introduced as Ilsa, the sister of the wolfir who had disappeared.  Ilsa cautiously handed Elspeth a string of white-and-black beads. “Will this do?” she asked. “It’s an old bracelet of Marten’s. He stopped wearing it when it broke a month or two ago.”

“I hope so,” Elspeth said shortly. She concentrated on the tricky feel of slippery, sideways magic that Venser had shown her.  It did not come easily to her, but eventually she succeeded in teasing out a faint thread from the beads, a thread that glowed slightly blue in her mind’s eye.  She turned slowly in a full circle, then once again to find the direction in which it glowed most brightly.  “This way,” she said.

For the first few hours, the glow’s brightness did not change.  Ilsa and Elspeth slogged through mud and forest, occasionally detouring around particularly rough patches, without speaking.  The female wolfir seemed uninclined to break the silence, for which Elspeth was grateful, since it was hard enough for her to keep up the intense concentration this required without trying to carry on a conversation as well.

Suddenly, Elspeth felt a bright, sharp blue spark in her mind, and the glow began to brighten steadily as they continued. Their trail intersected with a winding, narrow road, and, on a hunch, she gestured to Ilsa to follow it. They had walked for another hour or so, when a winding curl of smoke in the distance alerted them to the presence of a small shack that had been erected by the side of the road. The shower of sparks that burst in front of Elspeth’s eyes made her drop the spell hurriedly, but it looked as if they had arrived.

She and Ilsa looked at one another, and then they advanced off the road to the shack and knocked on the door. There was a pause, and then it opened to reveal a small, cozy-looking interior.  There was a sheet-covered pallet on one side, a cheery fire in the small fireplace, and two people sitting around a table in the center—a wolfir and a young woman who was wearing an old, battered set of armor with the symbol of Avacyn on it.  A second young woman had opened the door for them.

“Marten!” exclaimed Ilsa. “What in Avacyn’s name are you doing here?”

The wolfir stood hurriedly and moved in front of the young woman who had answered the door.  “Ilsa,” he said guardedly.  “How did you find me?”

Elspeth leaned tiredly against the door. “Are you Greta?” she asked the woman behind Marten.

“Yes,” the young woman said softly.

Elspeth couldn’t suppress the sigh that escaped. “Then I beg you to return with me and show the villagers that you have not been kidnapped.”

Greta flinched.  “I can’t do that,” she said.

Elspeth shut her eyes. “Please,” she said hoarsely. “They’ve taken my companion and plan to execute him unless the wolfir return you, which they cannot do.”

“Your companion?” echoed Greta in evident confusion.

“My companion is similar to a wolfir,” Elspeth explained.  “The villagers, apparently stirred up by some crusader who has a dislike for the wolfir, have taken him as a prisoner and after trying to ‘purify’ me, have decided that I am a witch.”

The second woman sitting at the table jerked in surprise as she spoke.  “A crusader?” she echoed.  She, Greta and Marten exchanged puzzled looks. “But I’m the only crusader around these parts, and I have not been back to the village in several weeks.” She stood and crossed the room toward Elspeth.  “I am Crusader Zylpha,” she said, nodding her head.  She brought with her an unmistakable trail of white mana.

Leaning wearily against the door, Elspeth felt a cold chill go down her spine.  “That was the name they gave,” she said steadily.

“ _What_?” Zylpha’s hand went uneasily toward her sword.

“Crusader Zylpha,” responded Elspeth. “The villagers told me that Crusader Zylpha had labeled me a witch and had incited them to take my—Ajani.” Her lips trembled around his name.

“I still don’t see why we should get involved,” Marten put in stubbornly, but Greta put a hand on his arm.

“Because this could be us?” she said. She moved forward and took Elspeth’s hand in hers.  “I’m sorry—I didn’t realize that our flight would make trouble for others. We never intended that to happen.”

Her unexpected kindness took Elspeth by surprise, and she managed a slight smile.  “Then you’ll help?”

“We will all help,” Crusader Zylpha said grimly.  “There’s dark magic afoot here, and it’s past time the villagers knew about you and Greta, Marten. You two should never have had to flee to begin with.  The wolfir are the chosen of Avacyn, and, even if they were not, you are both good folk.”

Greta took a deep breath. “We-we’ve been blessed by Avacyn, Marten.  We can’t leave others to suffer in our place.”

Marten snarled, long and low, but nodded in acquiescence.

They packed in haste, while Elspeth hovered, feverishly nervous, in the corner.  They left in silence; even though Elspeth knew it was not a long journey and they had until the next day, she felt desperately ill-at-ease. The walk back to the forest did not take long and was mostly silent, although Greta tried to brighten the mood with conversation.  Elspeth appreciated her effort and did her best to respond, but the two wolfir were silent and brooding, and Crusader Zylpha appeared very distracted.

As they stepped into the forest, the landscape changed abruptly.  The sky boiled with clouds, and the trees became gnarled, stunted things with long, hand-like branches quivering even in the dead stillness where the wind had died. “What in Avacyn’s name is this?” said Zylpha.

Elspeth’s mouth was set in a grim line. “I believe whoever was behind the false crusader in the village is showing their hand,” she replied. “I suspect we are about to be attacked.”

Her words were proven true a moment later, when three ghastly specters burst from the bushes.  Trailing long, silvery chains, their fluttering, faceless forms were eerily silent.  Crusader Zylpha attacked with a shout, drawing her sword, which flared with bright white light.  The touch of white magic rejuvenated Elspeth, who had been halted by the encroaching fear of the darkness threatening to close in on her mind, and she drew her blade and attacked as well.

Before their swords could make an impact, the creatures disappeared in puffs of black smoke; Elspeth whirled to find one already behind her, reaching for her back with its ragged hand. She plunged her sword in, this time calling on her own reserves of white mana as she did so. It was slow to respond to her call, but light surged sluggishly down her arm, pouring into the creature and illuminating it from within.  This time it burst in an explosion of darkness and rags and did not reappear.

Turning, she saw that Zylpha and the wolfir had managed to dispatch the other two; Greta had her hands clasped in a prayer, and Elspeth could feel white magic responding to her call as well. “What were those?” she asked disgustedly as she wiped her sword on the grass and headed back to the others.

“Shades,” Zylpha said grimly. “Familiar ones. I fought them a few years ago. I destroyed them.”

“Nightmares,” Elspeth said softly. “Nightmares and illusions.”

A snarl from the night disrupted their conversation once again.  This time their attackers were wolves, huge and vicious-looking, their jaws dripping with saliva.  Their forelegs were distorted, too long, the paws closer to humanoid hands. Elspeth grimly met the first one with her blade, and, as it thrashed in pain, took a moment to throw a white spell around herself and her four companions, intended to protect them from harm.

Finishing the first wolf, she turned with a blade dripping black, to see that Marten and Ilsa were crouched in the grass with their hands over their eyes as Zylpha circled the second wolf warily. The wolf was wounded, and Zylpha’s clothes were ripped and blood-spattered, though any wounds she had taken Greta had healed.  As Elspeth watched, Zylpha put on a burst of speed and sliced the wolf across the chest. It fell backward, and Elspeth and Zylpha together drove their swords through its midsection, till it died twitching, and then slowly dissipated into grey mist.

Greta knelt beside the two wolfir. “It’s all right,” she said steadily.  “Those are _not_ who you are, and they weren’t really who you were then, either.”

Elspeth looked away for a long moment. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to keep moving,” she said apologetically.  “I’m sorry, this is probably my fault.”

“Don’t talk nonsense,” replied Ilsa. “The person at fault is the person sending these nightmares, and I’ll tear him limb from limb if we find him.” Marten gave her a sidelong look. “Yes, I will, Marten. I can be savage without being mindless.”

“Elspeth, the men and women of our village haven’t treated you well,” Zylpha said seriously.  “Even if some dark mage is playing with their minds, they ought to know better.  But I will see that you and your Ajani have justice.”

“Thank you,” Elspeth said, managing a faint smile.

They turned and began to forge through the darkened landscape once again.  After an indeterminate amount of time, by which point Elspeth’s head was spinning with darkness and fighting dark spirits, they had to pause for a short break by a cold, running stream.

Greta cleansed the water to be safe as they knelt and drank from it.  The taste of the cool water cleared Elspeth’s head, and she stood up again, feeling renewed strength coursing through her veins.  That was when the organic chittering noise began, followed by the clink of chains. 

Elspeth froze, fear rising up inside her to clutch at her heart.

“What are those?” said Greta’s fearful voice.

Elspeth’s eyes slid shut of her own volition, images sparked by the sound playing in front of her lids. She was twelve years old again, the chains heavy around her ankle, and it was reaching out for her. She felt the cold of its claws on her face, and only the terrifying heat of the Blind Eternities could save her.

“Elspeth!” Zylpha’s voice cried, and she heard the clash of metal on metal.  The sound jolted her eyes open.  The crusader had her sword out and was defending them ferociously, but the Phyrexians were already closing in.  She could be safe—she could leave—if she just began preparations now—

_And leave again?_ echoed an angry voice in her head.  Elspeth’s hands fell on the hilt of her sword, an unaccustomed surge of emotion flowing through her.  _I have walked through the Underworld and returned of my own volition.  I have killed a god.  And you, whoever you are, think to keep from Ajani with these nightmares?_   A wordless cry burst from Elspeth’s throat, and the sword came out of its hilt once again, followed by flash of white light that grew with the courage in her heart, brighter and brighter, until the shadows of the creatures that had haunted her nights all her life burned away and dissipated before her eyes.

Blinking and panting through the afterimages, she still managed to see the shadowy contours of the forest reshape and change into something much more recognizable.  They were not far from the wolfir settlement; in fact, she could faintly see motion through the trees and hear voices.

Zylpha stood with her sword held loosely, menacing empty air.  She blinked at Elspeth, then nodded in acknowledgement.  “Well done,” she said, and Elspeth flashed her a brief smile, then began forging toward the settlement.

Light began to filter through the treetops. With her impromptu surge of white magic, she had dissipated whatever illusion had kept them trapped, but they’d been wandering around for much longer than she had realized. It was dawn.

Elspeth started to run. “Come on!” she shouted, gesturing to the others.  She saw Marten glance at Ilsa, and then the two wolfir looked up at the sky and began to run as well. 

_Please don’t let me be too late_. It was only yards away, but it felt like miles, as the ground passed beneath her feet.  She burst out of the bushes into the clearing as the first rays of dawn glinted off the axe that one of the villagers was raising over Ajani’s neck.  As it began to fall, she launched herself forward, and her feet never returned to the ground. Her shoulders strained as she beat against the air, and then she was there, with no time to call out, no time to do anything except—

Flinging herself in front of the falling axe, Elspeth raised a hand to ward it off, drawing on all the white mana that she could find as she did so.  There was a ringing, metallic clang, and she felt a tremendous force reverberate through her hand, accompanied by another brilliant flash of light. Pieces of axe flew around her face like angry bees, one or two of them bouncing off her cheeks.

The villager with the axe stood with an open mouth, then dropped the bladeless axe and fell to his knees in front of her.  “You’ll have to go through me,” Elspeth said grimly, as several of the other villagers raised bows are arrows to point at both of them.

“ _Stop_!” Zylpha’s voice rang through the clearing.  She strode out, closely followed by Marten, Greta, and Ilsa.  The villagers began to turn to one another as they saw Greta, and she saw Gaufrid, in the front of a group of wolfir on the far side of the clearing, mouth the word ‘Marten’.  Zylpha didn’t stop until she was standing next to Elspeth.  “How dare you?  All of you?  I thought I’d taught you better!”

Greta ran up as well, then glanced at Marten and took his hand.

“Greta, what are you doing?” demanded the priest of Avacyn, stepping forward.  “This is…”

“This is love,” said Zylpha. She nodded to Elspeth and Ajani. “As is this.  I don’t recall Avacyn forbidding it.”

“Greta!”  Greta’s brother pushed past the priest and ran forward to fling himself into her arms.  “I’m so glad you’re all right!”

“Of course I’ll all right,” Greta said. She looked up at the villagers. “I’m sorry I ran away. I was afraid.”

Gaufrid stepped forward stiffly, glancing sideways at the priest, then spoke to Marten.  “I’m sorry, Marten.  You should not have felt you had to flee.”

“But, Zylpha, you yourself told us she was a witch!” persisted the priest.  “I wouldn’t have—I mean, I thought—”

“You were deceived,” Zylpha said sternly. “There has been dark magic at work here, but Elspeth dispelled it.  Perhaps you might free her companion?”

“I—yes, of course.”  The priest seemed worried and chastened as she stepped forward and touched the chains binding Ajani.  Elspeth felt a sharp streak of dark magic fly out as they came apart, and then Ajani stretched his massive head and looked up at her, and she fell into his arms.

“Did you know you have wings?” he rumbled, but Elspeth could only stifle a sob into his fur.

~

It took a few more hours for everything to be sorted out.  There was a great deal of talking and apologizing; the priest grudgingly made peace with Gaufrid under Zylpha’s watchful eye.  Zylpha promised that whoever was responsible for the events would be hunted down, and Elspeth, bone-weary, was inclined to let her handle it, at least until the next day.  Greta’s brother was almost pathetically grateful to both Elspeth and Ajani, and most of the villagers apologized to both them and Marten and Greta, some sincerely, others rather more stiffly, on the way back to the village. 

After more than enough of this, she and Ajani managed to find Erich and Salida, who immediately offered to let them stay overnight.  Ajani was a little reluctant, but Elspeth, almost to her own surprise, agreed immediately. Ajani’s wounds were healing more slowly than she would have liked, though still faster than a normal person’s. Erich wanted to ask the two of them about the past few days, but Salida, displaying remarkable amounts of both tact and sense, managed to head him off, show Ajani and Elspeth to a small but cozy bedroom at the back of the house and mention that there was a bath in the room beyond.  Then she left, taking her husband with her.

As soon as they were alone, Ajani pulled her into a crushing hug, and she let herself relax into his long, tangled fur. “I was afraid for you,” she said, eventually.  “Ajani—I—” she looked up at him.  His fur was spiking around his neck and along his back, but he said nothing. She had almost lost him. “I love you,” she said quietly. “I believe you mean more to me than anyone else in the world.”

His tail wound around her wrist. “And I love you, Elspeth.”

She leaned against him, and it took her another few minutes to find the courage to speak again.  “I never had family before I had you.”

He rubbed his face across hers in answer and held her quietly.  Eventually, she pulled away.  “You have blood in your fur,” she said.  “We should wash it off.”

Ajani hunched over.  “I do not like water,” he grumbled, tail lashing.

Elspeth gave him an arch smile. “Do you like me without clothes?” she asked.

“I suppose if you put it that way…” He shivered slightly, but allowed her to lead him into the next room and start the water running hot in the ornate bathtub.

Elspeth slipped out of her clothing, folded it, and laid it by the side of the tub.  Ajani groaned as he removed his own.  “By the anima, I am tired.”  Elspeth looked up and felt a brief, hot flash of anger. There was still a swollen gash on Ajani’s neck; the blood had soaked out and matted the white fur around it. His wrists were also swollen where they had been chained.  Elspeth took one large hand and inspected it gently.  He winced slightly, but let her; she kissed the palm and then released it.

A quick investigation of the bathroom revealed a clean washcloth; then she turned back to Ajani, who was now staring at the water with trepidation. 

“Where is your bravery now, oh mighty warrior?” Elspeth teased him gently, and he gingerly stepped forward and put a foot in, then hissed loudly, all the fur standing up on the back of his neck.

“I am being brave,” Ajani said. “I am also being wet.” But he stepped fully into the tub and reached out a hand to help Elspeth in beside him.

He sat stiffly in the middle and shivered slightly, but allowed her to start carefully cleaning out the cut on his neck.  It was not deep, she noted to her relief, and Ajani groaned and rumbled as she leaned in closer, his hands reaching up to land on her hips.  She paused for a moment, just enjoying his warmth and proximity and the ubiquitous feeling of safety. 

The washcloth turned slowly red as she teased out the worst of the matted blood.  Ajani gave a low hiss of pain when she accidentally hit a more sensitive area, but gestured to her to continue when she paused in concern. Slowly, she managed to clean out his fur, which began to feel a little finer, a little less tangled, beneath her hands. 

“Are you satisfied?” he rumbled close to her ear, one hand sliding teasingly down her leg.  Elspeth shivered, her eyes sliding shut. The connection with him which had been forged the night of the thunderstorm flared to sudden life, and she felt his arousal in the pit of her stomach, mixing with her own.  “Perhaps I could wash _you_ for a little?”

“Mmmm,” Elspeth murmured in lazy assent. “Perhaps.”

To her surprise, Ajani pushed her gently backward until she was lying against the back of the bathtub, then ducked his head and drew his long, rough tongue over the junction of her shoulder and neck.  Elspeth gasped in surprised and then laughed, her toes curling.  As he began to nuzzle and lick down her front, she heard the gurgle of the bathwater being let out, and she gave him a poke.

He looked up at her blandly. “I cannot reach if you are covered in water.”

“Wh—”  His tongue curled around her breast, and she lost her powers of speech, letting her head fall back against the wall.

“I have not seen you in two days, Elspeth.”  Ajani’s voice was muffled by her flesh but understandable.  “I feel the need to explore.”  He punctuated the last word with a curl of his fingers between her legs, and she moaned.

His tongue continued to trace across both breasts, sending waves of warmth through her body and making her skin tingle with desire.  “Ajani,” she breathed, arching her back toward him, and felt his rumbling laughter throughout her bruised body.  His tongue moved from her breasts up to her left shoulder; Elspeth shrieked with surprised giggles as it traced down toward the inside of her elbow, but Ajani grabbed her arm and stopped her from moving it, though she continued to squirm. He wound his tongue around her arm, then slid it down and ended by careful tracing each finger. His tongue was rough, but he used it gently, teasing the fine hairs of her arm upright in his wake.  The rate of her breathing increased.

Agonizingly slowly, Ajani licked down her other arm as well, then down across her stomach.  Elspeth drew her breath in rapidly, but he slid to the slid and down her inner thigh.  She found herself giving a moan of protest and felt his laughter rumbling across her leg.  “Patience,” he said, carefully moving down the inside of her thigh.

“Not fair,” she murmured, but Ajani just growled in answer.

It was blissful torment, lying there and letting him lick every part of her body that he could reach. She cherished every little movement, every flick of his tongue and brush of his fingers, the wet, soft fur beneath the palms of her hands as she rubbed them across his back, across his chest. Finally, he looked up at her, his blue eye crinkled up with tenderness, and put his muzzle between her legs.

Heat and arousal knocked her backwards, arching her back, drawing a moan from her throat.  She was falling—she was safe.  The insistent flicking of his tongue across her drew her toward Ajani even as she shuddered her way toward climax.  She reached for him, hands and mind and magic, and felt the flood of white that flowed between them.  Ajani’s heart was beating in time with hers, and, as she tumbled over into orgasm, she reached out and caught for him.

She felt his low, rumbling moan in her head, his voice murmuring her name, and still she shivered and road a timeless thrill of pleasure, before collapsing with a sigh against the back of the bath. Ajani was bent over her, breathing heavy with desire.  Elspeth hummed sleepily and leaned against him, her hand sliding down his thigh. “Would you like me to help you with that?” she asked.

“I would appreciate it,” Ajani said, his voice low and throaty.  He ducked his head and bit gently at her hair.

“Turn around,” Elspeth said, and, after one startled look, he mutely obeyed her.  “Sit back against me.”

As he leaned against her, she slid a hand down his front, tangling in his fur, and then paused on his thigh. He rumbled, and twisted his round to gaze at her pathetically.  “I suppose this is my just reward for earlier?”

She planted a kiss on his nose and called on the barest hint of the white mana she had felt coursing through her veins earlier before closing her hand around his shaft and moving it up and down.

Ajani whimpered and bucked against her hand, and it took only a few swift strokes to bring him to his own climax. She felt it inside her, like a gentle echo of her own, as Ajani bent backwards toward her, gasping her name.

They lay, sticky and sated, pressed together, for several long, warm minutes.  Then Ajani turned his head lazily toward her.  Rolling over, he licked her hair and drew her closer. Elspeth gave a sleepy little wriggle.  “Perhaps we should take a little more care when choosing our next plane.”

Ajani rumbled against her head. “Ah, but look what a good ending this story had.”

Elspeth felt she ought to raise an objection, but she was too pleased with her current situation to do so, and instead rolled over against Ajani with a satisfied sigh.  “I love you,” she murmured, and he held her very close.

~

A dark hand swept through the tender scene, dissipating it like a mist.  Ashiok watched it fade, as Ashiok considered the situation.  The two planeswalkers had not reacted as Ashiok predicted, but, after all, improving predictions was the purpose of research. The dark figure turned and melted away into the forest, leaving behind only curling, dark mist in its wake.


End file.
